


Take This Lonely Heart

by Kojotek



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kojotek/pseuds/Kojotek
Summary: A small collection of ficlets I regularly (or less) post on my tumblr, here to be easily found in one place. Miraith focused. Each ficlet should be treated as a separate story. Rating may vary between the stories.





	1. Mirror (E/angst and comfort)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes shared pain brings people together. It's no different this time.

The first time they meet he has a gun against her head.  
She's chasing him down a flight of stairs in the old buildings of relay and he's running like he's being chased by a horde of demons. Three bullets wheeze above her head when she runs outside, she doesn't have much time till his squad reaches this place, but he's just there, around the corner, she can hear how he slams the door behind him.  
She tries to flank him but when she enters the room there are two of him.  
Two of the same men standing close.  
She goes for the left one, to her doom.  
It's a decoy but she's too close. She gets yanked by the arm, pushed around, he pins her to the wall, his forearm painfully pressed against her throat. She drops the Alternator. Kunai slices through the layers of his yellow suit but he puts a pistol right to her temples and so she freezes.  
They're both panting heavily from the run and he's smiling, which makes her grit her teeth, she almost wants to spit in his face.  
"Boom, you're dead," he whispers but doesn't pull the trigger.  
She wonders if it hurts. Will it make the voices finally shut up? The man in front of her has golden eyes and that's probably the last thing she's gonna see before it ends.  
He readjusts the arm on her neck. She can see his Adam's apple moving when he swallows, he also reflectively nervously licks his lips.  
Why doesn't he pull the trigger?  
"Where's your team, huh?" He asks, brows furrowed.  
"I fight alone," she drones, she's angry, she's furious, why are they talking, he should end it right there.  
He does not.  
"Listen, I'd arp- appreciate if you'd take that slicer off my chest."  
She slowly retracts the kunai and he immediately takes a step back. He's not aiming at her anymore but is wary enough to raise his gun any moment, she's pretty sure of it.  
"Okay, just... have a good fight, I guess," the man gestures towards the exit. He's letting her go?  
"Why?" She demands answers angrily.  
Something snaps in his expression, he takes a step closer again, his voice is seething when he leans to face her.  
"Just fucking go," he scoffs. "Kill someone for me, tell them I said hello."  
He turns his back on her and heads towards the exit.  
She picks up the gun and aims at him but hesitates for long enough for him to leave.  
There's blood on the knife.  
"Where's that girl who chased you?" Someone outside asks.  
"Dunno, she escaped. I couldn't find her. We should go to the ring," he lies effortlessly.  


***  


The second time they meet she's sitting on the gym floor, sweating buckets, catching a breath after intense venting off on a punchbag. She's not happy to see him, to put it mildly. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care, sits on the floor next to her.  
"Hey, so, you've said you don't have a team?"  
She glares at him before reluctantly speaking.  
"I don't."  
He crosses his legs.  
"It's your lucky day." The same smug smile he had when he caught her appears on his face. "My teammates got themselves shot in the last game, I have no one to play with." He winks.  
"Boomer," she replies flatly.  
"Let's team up, you make more money if you don't just let yourself be thrown in with randos."  
Huff, is that what he thinks she's after? Desperate. She doesn't have time for that.  
"I don't care." She says, getting up. "I play alone."  
The talk is over, she walks away but he's persistent, he doesn't let go and follows her to the training area.  
"You still mad at me for that in the ring? You can take me out if that makes you feel better," he pauses and she looks at him, unimpressed. "I'll buy the drinks." He winks.  
She yanks him by the shirt, pins him - submissive - against the punching bag.  
"Whoa there!"  
"Listen to me, I don't care why you came here, I'm not interested in anything that has to do with you, so just fucking leave. Me. Alone. You shouldn't have hesitated there. You have a new enemy."  
She's smaller, but leaning her whole body against his in a mild threat, breathes almost the same air as she raises on her tiptoes to seethe the words right in his face. The corner of his mouth lifts up as she takes a step back.  
"Oh yeah?"  
The hit isn't marked and she, for once, doesn't expect it at all. But the reflexes kick in, she parries it the very last moment, jumps back to readjust but he doesn't give her the time, walks into her space, this time his fist hits right into her abdomen. She muffles a moan, retaliates with a powerful kick into the leg he's standing on.  
He flips on the mattress looking surprised.  
"You shouldn't. I'm better," she pants, walking forward to look down at him.  
She has no idea how his legs tangle around hers and the next thing she knows, she's falling to the side, out of balance.  
He jumps back at his feet and so does she. He cocks his head.  
"You're not. Shall we dance?"  
They trade hits one by one and Wraith has to admit she pours too much strength into this to call it sparring. It pays off though. The second time he lands on a matt he shows her both palms.  
"Alright, I give up."  
It's weird how it makes her feel. Her head is cleared, the angry buzz gone with the sweat. She considers her next move, staring him down. And she reaches out her hand to him.  
The man smiles gently when he's back at his feet. She crosses her arms.  
"You were good," she politely admits, looking him in the eyes with a challenge.  
"Thanks. The offer still stands."  
"I'll consider."  
She grabs the towel and leaves the gym.  


***  


The third time they meet it’s right before entering the dropship.  
He flexes in front of the reporters, sends kisses to the cameras. She stands in the nameless crowd of participants looking at the show he makes. His yellow suit is torn at the chest, stuck back together with a duct tape.  


***  


The apartment has a glass ceiling through which she can see the stars and moons. It's ridiculously expensive but they've just won another game. She doesn't know which one is it, she'd stopped counting after the tenth. They can afford even the most awfully expensive hotel rooms.  
She has the same view in hers, it's just next door. But she chooses to sit with Elliott on a vast, pillowy couch. The wine is running out, she'll soon have to go. But as long as there's still something to sip from the glass, she'll stay and enjoy their comfortable silence.  
She stares at the sky peaceful, grateful she can be here.  
"Why didn't you shoot?"  
He sounds surprised. "What?"  
"The first time we've met, in the ring. Why didn't you shoot me?"  
He readjusts on the pillows and with the corner of her eye, she can see he takes a sip of his wine, rests the glass at his knee and stares at the wall. It takes a few good minutes before he speaks again.  
"Why didn't you run away? You could."  
She doesn't have a good answer to this. She craved that bullet, that's a fact. And even if she doesn't say it out loud, he speaks up again.  
"I've seen your deathwish."  
"How?" Is the only thing that comes to her head. She turns to him slowly.  
Elliott looks up at her but not a single muscle twitches on his face, nothing that could help her read his thoughts. He takes a breath, opens his mouth but the last moment he puffs it out slowly. He puts the glass away on the coffee table.  
"It was like looking in the mirror." He absently stares into the sky, the corner of his mouth lifts a little. "I guess I just wanted to cheer you up a little. To save you. From yourself."  
"We were just strangers. Why would it matter?"  
The timid smile is still on his face when he looks back at her.  
"I don't know. I guess I've just wished someone would do that to myself. Look through and help me." He leans a bit closer, his breath heavy, eyes burning with an emotion she hasn't seen in him yet. "Just tell me if I do something you won't like," his voice is but a murmur, low and confident, makes her forget to breathe for a second. She catches the air just the moment he closes the distance between their lips.  
A small whimper escapes her throat. 'No.' is the first thing that comes to her mind but she doesn't say it loud, she doesn't have it in her to deny trying the taste of his lips, she had been thinking of for quite a while. Elliott's hand cups her head gently, pulls her closer. She gives in to that lust, lets his hands explore her skin under the clothes as she slowly curls her tongue inside his mouth.  
He kisses every inch of her body as he slowly undresses her against the pillows. She trusts him completely, lets him do whatever he chooses to, trembles slightly when he gently spreads her legs to kiss her all wet. Her cheeks are burning with a blush when his tongue circles sensually at her sensitive skin. It feels so good but she wants only more and more. And when the orgasm shivers through her body she moans, looking wide-eyed at the dark night sky.  
She pulls him up by the shirt.  
"Take that off," she breathes out frantically trying to undress him.  
He obeys with a smile, calms down her desperate need to feel him inside with a slow languid kiss. And then another. She gives in to that gentle pace he sets, lets him place all the small admiring kisses at her breasts as he thrusts into her sinuously. They make love under this glass ceiling, exposed to the stars that seem to blink back at them. And when she comes again it’s to the static noise of the void she’s not in control of anymore. Elliott, he tries to back away right after he moans out his orgasm right next to her ear, but she catches him by the arms, panting she hugs his warm body, hides her face in his neck, nudges his tense muscles with her nose.  
He slowly relaxes into that embrace.  
“Can I have a request?” she whispers, puffing air through his locks and takes the lack of an answer as permission. “Can you live for me, till you find a better reason?”  
Elliott sniffs before he looks up at her. He brings her hand up to his mouth, kisses it closing his eyes.  
“Yeah, I think I could do that.”


	2. Way Out There (M/angst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m a long way from the one that I loved_  
>  I’ve been tending old flames, lamenting what was  
> Drifting in a land time forgot  
> If you think that I’ve changed, you know me not  
> ~Lord Huron - Way Out There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if... the worst possible scenario happened? 
> 
> Angst without comfort.

Sometimes she wakes up and he’s not there. She then lies still for a while, only a whisper of breath in the silence of the morning, listening carefully to any sign he is somewhere out of sight. Even though she’s sure if he’s not by her side he’s nowhere to be found. She spends such days longing for his smile and small touch, every hour dull and similar, like a neverending loop until the sun moves beyond the horizon and a softer, warmer light illuminates the room.

Then he comes back.

“Hello, babe,” a whisper and a soft brush of lips pull her out of a feverish nap. She opens her eyes, sees his face and smiles.

When her hand touches his cheek he’s warm, a little scruffy and without a doubt back.

“Hey.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, pets her hair gently, tries to hide a worry in his eyes but she has learned to see past through him a long time ago.

“Have you been sleeping all day?” He asks softly and there is no shaming in his tone.

“I don’t have much to do when you’re away.”

He scowls at those words but quickly takes her hand and kisses the top of it. Then he lies down on the bed next to her and it takes them a moment of fumbling under the sheets to finally rest, cuddling. His warm lips kiss her temples.

They don’t speak much, there’s not really much left to say and she just chooses to cherish the ethereal intimacy of this moment. While it lasts.

Hours pass with them not sharing a single word.

“You know,” she starts timid, afraid to break the silence. “Sometimes I think all of this has only been in my head. That I’ve just… made you up.”

He traces a small circle at her palm, and then another right next to it. He mimics the gesture a few times, carefully drawing an infinity loop on her bare skin. When she looks up at him he wears a bitter smile, his eyes are shining with that barely visible trace of tears.

“No, babe, I’m too perfect to be made up, even your beautiful mind can’t come up with something like that,” he jokes but his voice is brittle.

“I miss you.”

“I’m here. I’m always here. Remember that.” He turns to the side and shelters her in his arms, his warmth and a steady heartbeat so different, so opposed to her own ragged breath and cold skin. “They’re here,” he announces with a whisper.

They’re here to take him away again.

She only has enough time to sit up when the door shoot open and the sick white light pours in.

They come in threes. Fully armed with sticks and tasers. Even so, she had already killed two. They hate her for that, they have no mercy, no regard of her feelings.

“Why do you have to do this, you know you will get it anyway,” one of the men sighs, pulling out a syringe. “Hold her.”

She waits up in place to fool them, to lure them, only when they are about to grab her both arms, she slides down from the bed to dive under their feet. One catches her by the ankle but she kicks the second with enough strength to push him away. She kicks and growls, punches and scratches everywhere she can see because maybe this time, maybe this time…

The electric shock comes like a wave through her whole body, twitching every muscle with terrible pain. She gets pushed on the floor brutally, one of them kneels at her back while the other presses his whole weight at her legs. But her head is turned to the bed now and she can see Elliott even through her tearing eyes and disheveled hair. He kneels closer and covers her palm with his.

She blabbers ‘no’ over and over again when the syringe breaches her skin and the cold medicine spills in her veins.

She closes her eyes, weeping ugly into the cold tiled floor as long as she can feel a light touch of fingers on her own hand.

Two men jump up and back off fast, like expecting her to try and get them but she doesn’t move.

Curled on the floor, she feels the touch slowly disappearing.

“I love you,” she mumbles through cries.

“For fucks sake, when are you gonna understand this man is dead?” One of the men snaps and then they leave.

When she opens her eyes Elliott is not there anymore.

She’s left there alone in the darkness of the room.


	3. Call of the Void (G/angst and comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things we do for love

“I think you should quit,” Wraith says dead serious when they sit in the darkness of the room. A single candle gives next to no light, drawing only but a silhouette, a bright lineart of her body. Her eyes glow though with that vibrant blue light.

Mirage sighs because he knows it’s true. The fans are merciless sometimes and he feels it the most right now. They say Wraith isn’t a good match for him. They slur. They harass her when they are seen together.

Hell, one of his psychofans went an extra mile, made up a story of how he had cheated with her on Wraith, she even photoshopped some photos Mirage wishes he could forget.

He also wishes Wraith could forget.

This could have easily ended their love.

He never ceases to be amazed by how much she has to love him, by how all she needs is just his words it’s all not true.

And that thought is both terrifying and comforting at once. He doesn’t trust himself enough to be sure he will never hurt her.

She’s right. But has he had enough?

She’s right. But his science career is non-existent and he needs the money. The money fighting in the ring provides.

He closes her hand in his own.

“You’re right.”

Sometimes the path beneath your feet is hidden and you have to make a choice blindfold. He doesn’t know if he’s gonna be good at that and he’s afraid to fuck something up, but if there’s the slightest chance he can live this dream he will go for it, whatever it takes.

***

“I think you should quit,” Mirage says dead serious. Wraith can barely see him in the darkness of the room, they are sitting by the window, watching the heavy drops of rain race down the glass.

She has seen this all before, in numerous, endless iterations of the very same conversation they are having right now. She doesn’t know what the future will bring and that uncertainty is unsettling. She wishes she could know the outcome too.

He’s right. She almost died last time, downloading the - in the end - useless data from the base in Runoff. It took her a month to recover.

She’s still working on getting back to shape after that. She doesn’t have all the answers yet. In fact, she doesn’t have any, only some vague names of facilities and descriptions of the scientific project. But the way it affects him, the look in his eyes when he thinks he might lose her… it’s too much to bear.

She doesn’t have what she’s been aiming for but she has something - someone she hasn’t expected to find.

The truth is out there, waiting for her to unravel. But maybe the real goal is not to find your past but to find your real self in the present.

He’s right. But she doesn’t even have a name.

He’s right. But if she burns that bridge there will be no way of finding out her origins.

“You’re right.”

_You two always say that._

Sometimes you have to sacrifice your personal goals for something much more important. And she feels she’s okay with that.

He reaches for her hand and squeezes it gently. She knows he does exactly the same for her in another life.


	4. Trickster (G/Fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage loves food. And Wraith. In that order.

The overwhelming heat. The wing by the ceiling slowly rotating, doing actually nothing to help. The old-school red coating on the seats painfully sticking to the skin. The black coffee brewed and served from a pot.

Wraith stares Mirage down, her eyebrow twitches with disbelief and some kind of impression.

Elliott takes the last bite of his burger and thoroughly licks the sauce off his fingers. His face shows nothing but pure delight. He finishes cleaning himself up with an obnoxious smooch and smiles to her, leaning on the red backrest of his seat.

“I love this place, can we stay here forever?”

It’s the fifth day of their road trip and he falls in love approximately every dinner. Wraith leans forward, rests her head on tangled fingers.

“You’d go off.”

He chuckles and pats his belly.

“Aw come on, dude, I don’t eat that much.”

She stares for a long moment at his abs visible from under the white t-shirt he’s wearing. Unbelievable.

“I honestly have no idea where you fit all that.”

“It wasn’t that much.”

“You ate two double burgers.”

“Is two burgers a lot for a man like me?”

“You had waffles with ice cream and a large mocha with whipped cream like half an hour ago.”

“Well, it’s not my fault everything is so delicious.”

The waiter appears by they table out of nowhere.

“Would you like a pie for dessert?”

“Sure!”

Wraith’s eyes widen in shock.

“You just said you’re stuffed!”

“We’re not coming back, it’s the only occasion to try that pie, honey.”

Wraith snorts.

“I’m beginning to see why the pet names you call me are mostly food related. I wish you loved me as much as you love your food.”

A porcelain plate with deliciously looking apple pie lands on their table. Mirage takes a piece of it on the fork but speaks before eating.

“Aw come on now, I love you the most.”

“Yeah?” She leans a tad closer on the table.

“Yeah.” Elliott leans from the other side and is now but a breath away, she’s watching him carefully, ready for that kiss when… he stuffs the fork into his mouth laughing.

He mumbles something but his mouth is full and she would roll her eyes but is too amused with how predictable it’s been and he still got her.

She can’t speak at first, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. Elliott laughs hysterically on the contrary and doesn’t even try to hide it, the only thing stopping him from yelling being the piece of the pie in his mouth. She’s defeated. White flag waves high when she tries to act offended and can’t help falling for his charm.

Mirage eventually manages to swallow what he has had in his mouth and grins.

“Sorry, babe, couldn’t resist.”

He leans in and kisses her this time, tasting like baked apple and cinnamon.


	5. Scars are Made to Remind (T/fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by my friend's [headcanon](https://lovingdamonsalvatore.tumblr.com/post/184854049743/mirage-doesnt-just-have-scars-on-his-face-he-has)

Wraith tied her hair up, wet loose strands framed her face and sprinkled water with her every move. Their third night together, she could get used to that, to his presence and affection. When she left the bathroom she found him sitting on a bed, slightly slouched over his phone. She climbed next to him, purred embracing him from behind and smooched his shoulder.

Elliott murmured and kept reading.

She ran her hands slowly up and down his back. There was comfort in earning his trust and she wondered if there were any lines of intimacy she should not cross that early or if he really was - like it seemed - off any brakes. Her fingers stopped for longer at a big uneven round scar at his shoulder blade.

“What was that one?” She asked quietly.

Mirage moved his shoulder in n circle as this question reminded him of the pain. It was unsettling, knowing that her touch renewed old traumas. She kissed that place.

“That one,” he spoke after a moment, “was a close call.”

The way she could read him now like an open book was addictive. Her hands moved up to his neck, gently petted a long straight scar.

“And this?”

His shoulders hunched only to relax in a second.

“This one was a knife, but I shot the guy, obviously. I’m the one bamboozlin’ here.”

Just a shy brush of lips over the mark.

He tossed the phone on the pillow, leaned to the side, resting half on his elbow half on her tight, his hand petted at the small of her back.

Wraith was fascinated by his body, she adored the way his muscles worked under the skin, she loved undressing him, it woke the feelings resembling unwrapping a gift, excitement and admiration. Her hands traced the tiny scars down his chest, stopped at the small galaxy of little cuts on his abdomen.

Damn, he was insanely attractive.

“And this?”

“I don’t remember,” he half shrugged.

Wraith looked him in the eyes but his one eyelid blinked when a heavy water drop fell from her wet hair.

“Ah, an air strike!” He quipped, blinking fast.

She loved when he joked, something in the way he did said he’s comfortable with her and that - that was a gift.

Wraith touched his jawline, found a freshly healed mark on his cheek.

“And that,” he said before she asked. “Is when you saved me.”

Mirage caught her hand and kissed her every finger one by one. The look on his face was something she already knew, something feverish and wild. She gasped when he rolled them over, she was on top of him now, a tad surprised, receiving a slow languid kiss, his hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer.

The knot she tied her hair into fell apart soon enough.


	6. Celebrations (T/angst and comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pathfinder tries his best cheering up Mirage. Fortunately there's Wraith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, celebrations finally made it to ao3! Can you believe I wrote it before they released Pathfinder's sky emote voiceline "celebration!"?

It was 1:15 in the middle of the night and Mirage was sitting alone in the canteen. The white lights were dimmed, barely reaching his table. Gray table, gray walls, gray chairs, and this sick hospital light. His surroundings were almost as disgusting as the beer he was drinking. He swirled the can in his fingers. Took another sip and sighed, leaning on his arm. It would be worth remembering the brand of this horrible drink but on the other hand, they didn't sell anything else here in the Apex facility. Disgusting. It was his life right now. Also disgusting. He scowled, mindlessly scratched his cheek and somewhat surprised realized he needs to shave. Damn, those days between the games were the worst. When he didn't need to care about how he looked for the public he didn't care at all. He slumped at the table and thoughtlessly started playing with a can clip. The thing which pulled him out of this tedium was a cheerful robotic voice right by his side. He shivered.

"Hello, friend! It's a late hour for your species to be up! Were you hungry?" Pathfinder must have been the most cheerful of them all and Mirage appreciated the heartwarming presence of the smiling robot a lot, he had one flaw, though. He always had to yell. Today was no exception. Mirage took a minute to conjure his persona back to presence. It almost physically hurt to smile. 

"Hey, Path. It's nothing, I just couldn't sleep. Shouldn't you be out there, charging?" 

Yeah, shouldn't he? The robot sat on the opposite chair, the display showing a smiling icon and a battery indicator. 

"I am designed to need approximately 8 hours to fully charge but I've been spending most of the day on stand by! I don't need any more energy to stay here and keep you company, friend!" 

Elliott muffled a groan. After a second thought maybe out of all the people, Path was the most competent to pull him out of this debris. At least he was always honest and never judging. Too pure for this world, honestly. 

"Your facial expression indicates some sort of pain, are you ok?" The display showed question marks all over. 

Mirage sighed. Some words wouldn't creep out the robot as much as they would creep out people. 

"Yeah it hurts, Path. It hurts here, you know?" Elliott poked himself in the chest, realized how silly it must looked and turned away.

"Pain in the chest may indicate myocarditis, fatigue or a heart attack. Should I call a hospital bot?" Pathfinder's tone changed slightly to concern. 

"I cannot believe this, have you actually just searched my symptoms on webmd?"

"Perhaps." 

It actually made him crack a smile. Pathfinder displayed a winking emote and Elliott could see the lenses in his eye readjusted. 

"What makes you sad, friend?" he asked a bit of quieter.

It was a very good question. What was it, Mirage? The fact that you were sitting down there alone in a canteen on your birthday? The fact that it was only two days after Liam's birthday? Or maybe the fact that nobody really cared where you sat and what you did and you could just vanish without being missed? He didn't say any of that out loud. 

"When do you think it's fair--" he started, swallowed hard and looked up at Path. "To stop searching for whereabouts and start searching for a gravedigger?"

"I don't know. Is it about your brothers? I remember the facts you've told me earlier. Maybe they will find you here. We're famous. Just like you've told me my creator can find me." Elliott felt a twitch on his face. He swallowed the tears back, all that remained was slight wetness of the eyes. He hoped Path wouldn't notice it in this light.<\p>

"Yeah. Maybe they will," he muttered and bend the clip in half. 

"High five?" The robot stretched the arm out, the display showing a swarm of smiling emotes. Mirage smiled a bit of bitterly to that and clapped the metallic palm with his. "Something else makes you sad?" 

"Yeah well it's my birthday but who am I lying to, nobody cares." 

A big exclamation mark appeared on the screen.

"We should celebrate!"

"We are, aren't we. Look at the party," he sneered and downed the beer. It was truly awful and without gas already. 

"I will tell Wraith, I'm sure she'd like to celebrate with us!" 

Mirage froze in dread. Wraith seeing him like that? Unshaved, hair in a mess, old and washed out t-shirt? No. Fucking. Way.

"Don't you dare! Besides, she's probably already asleep."

"I can wake her up."

It was sometimes really hard to discourage Pathfinder. 

"Pathie, no. You know she has a lot of trouble falling asleep with all the voices talking. Let her rest." 

"O-K," he reluctantly agreed and a question mark displayed again.

"Thanks, tho. For listening to me rambling." 

Pathfinder's joints made a small zipping noise when he jumped a little at his seat. "No problem, friend," he cheered. "But I think you should go to sleep." 

He really should. But his empty bed was creeping him out and he wouldn't even dare to imagine someone's warmth next to him. Love always led to hurt anyway. And her? She was out of reach.

~~~

Elliott was sitting at the same grey table in the canteen. The morning, sunny and bright, exposed all the secrets the night could have kept. He didn't have the appetite, so he was just stabbing the scrambled eggs on his plate with a childish pickiness. His thoughts still seemed louder than the buzz of many conversations around him. Soft footsteps on the floor made him look around. He already learned to recognize that pace. 

Wraith smiled shyly. "Hey."

"Hi." 

She stood in place stiffly and he just stared. She had her hair tied up as always, wore a black hoodie that looked like she stole it from the older brother and she had the gray worn out jeans that made her look like some kind of rebelling teenager listening to My Chemical Romance. She was perfect. 

And he was staring. He cleared his throat.

"Take a seat?" He offered awkwardly. 

She nodded, sat on the opposite side of the table just like Path the other night and she finally pulled something from behind her back. A small glazed cupcake with a candle on top. Oh.

"A little bit late happy birthday?" She sounded flustered, slid it to him and immediately tangled her hands in a nervous movement.

"I- ah - I'm gonna kill him." Elliott could feel the blush flushing his cheeks. He hid his face in the palms, looked at her through the fingers. Wraith giggled.

"Spare him," her eyes were shining with a playful spark, the one that drove him crazy every time. There were things he couldn't describe happening inside his chest right now. "I'm sorry I'm late I just... didn't know." She smiled apologetically, pulled the sleeves of her hoodie to completely cover her palms.

If Path hadn't told her she wouldn't feel guilty now. Elliott reached out to hold her hand, realized what he was about to do halfway through the movement and placed both hands on the table instead. No touching, idiot.

"It's ok, really, I've never told you."

"Hope you like chocolate chips."

He was definitely lowering his guard too much when he was with her. No witty reply, Mr. Witt? A shivering fond smile instead of a usual grin? Pulling Mirage for her was becoming only harder. 

"Yeah, I... I do, they're my favorite." He stared at the cupcake and she wasn't telling a word.

"So I've been thinking..." she started quietly. "You're probably busy but I know of one much more pleasant place to eat that."

"I, no, I don't have any... plans." He had no idea where all his self-confidence went, his brain turned off completely and all he could do was wait for her move.

She got up. "Shall we, then?" 

He followed. He knew he would follow her to hell and back if she asked. And that, that meant trouble. 

~~~

Wraith led him to the rooftop with a view for a whole bay and the neighboring islands. It really was breathtaking, bathed in the rays of the morning sun, the leviathans slowly wading in the blue ocean water. They were sitting almost in silence, listening to the birds singing. 

"You have a light?" Wraith asked, holding a cupcake. He passed her the lighter, watched a little flame appear on top of the candle. She leaned with it towards him. "Make a wish," she said very seriously. 

Elliott swallowed hard, looking into the ice blue eyes. His wish was sitting just in front of him. If only she would know... He puffed out the candle. 

Wraith smiled fondly. Leaned close, very close, that made his heart skip a bit, and she placed a soft kiss at his cheek. 

"Happy birthday, Elliott." 

Dumbstruck, he didn't even dare to move.


	7. It's me, Elliott (G/angst and comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone call that broke our hearts

“Ye– yeah that’s right, mom. Yeah, I’m your son.”

Confirming this always felt like a slap in a face.

“Elliott.”

It wasn’t her fault she didn’t remember it was her brain acting up, she would never choose to forget if she could.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I will win for you today, don’t worry! Always for my number one fan.” Yet why did she remember all the complicated chemical formulas, all the crucial algorithms, every single coding language she’d learned and yet she somehow kept forgetting about… him?

“Yeah, you go enjoy your pork chops, I know they’re your favorite.”

Perhaps it was better for her. If she forgot about their existence at all she would never be hurt by the thought of them being dead, she would never miss them.

Nobody would miss him. It made Elliott choke on air, the feeling of being absolutely alone suddenly overwhelming.

“I’m gonna go win a cha- uh- abva-. I’m gonna go be the best.”

Not that it mattered. She would forget who he was the moment they hung up.

“Alright… love you, mom. Bye.”

It was such a bad idea to call her in the middle of the match, what was he thinking?! And now his stupid heart wouldn’t calm down, making it suddenly hard to breathe. His eyes stung, he tried blinking and looking to the side but that didn’t help too much and his nose got stuffed, and suddenly the more focus he was putting on calming down the more jarring the pain was.

“Elliott?” Wraith’s gentle voice sounded right behind him, making him slightly panicked.

He sniffed loudly and forced a smile. It felt like cracking a clay mask.

“Oh boy, it’s so cold!” he exclaimed fast, turning to the side just to not look at her, to hide his probably red eyelids and nose. The snow creaked under Wraith’s boots. “I think I’m catching something, you may not want to come too close, this whole winter thin-”

He was interrupted by a sudden weight leaning onto him and arms wrapping tightly around his torso. Confused to the bits he just froze in place, arms lifted up careful not to touch but an inch of Wraith’s skin, despite her embracing him from behind with all of her wraith-being. Elliott couldn’t believe it, the same person who was always avoiding any touch now suddenly plastered to him, it was completely out of place, especially now, even if welcomed. She didn’t say a word and he only managed to utter,

“Wha-”

“You left the comm open,” Wraith said into his back matter-of-factly.

Oh.

Fuck.

“No, listen, I-” Elliott ceased because she let go off him only to walk around and give him a proper hug this time. He let himself embrace her lightly, still startled about that sudden outburst of affection. He had to man up, Wraith shouldn’t see him like that.

“Is it getting worse?”

Elliott felt the rapid flutter of his heart, this question bringing the heavy weight to his chest again and filling his eyes with tears for no reason.

“No, no it’s o-okay, I’m-” he couldn’t make himself finish that sentence. Not with a throat clenched like this. It was getting worse with every phone call, Evelyn kept forgetting almost everyone, she didn’t even recall his name last time. Grief gnawing at his heart made him lose composure at once. He never finished the sentence just babbled something and sniffed aggressively when he couldn’t see anymore through the tears. Where was all this water coming from? He took a ragged breath, trying to focus on something - anything else - on Wraith’s warmth close to his heart, where she rested her head.

On her calm and steady breath, her small form pressed against him, her warmth sneaking through layers of fabric, her smell of fresh frosty morning. There was something more in that hug than a regular pat on the back, although he was afraid to name what he felt even in front of himself.

His heart calmed down and Wraith being so close must have heard it cause she raised her head to check on him. The smile Elliott gave her was lined with hurt but it was something… real. For a minute he wasn’t Mirage, he was Elliott.

“Thanks.” He sniffed. “I’ll make this up to you…”

Wraith’s piercing blue eyes met his gaze when she stepped back with a worried smile dancing in the corners of her lips.

“Now let’s go win a chma- chmp ch- let’s win it.”


	8. The great returns (G/fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's close our eyes for a moment and imagine a happy ending

The whole family is sitting around the coffee table, calm discussions and warm laughter echoing in the room. Renee holds Vica at her knees and keeps cooing to her to the applaud of Elliott’s mom.

Aunt Britney and uncle Robin managed to make it to Vica’s second birthday too this year. Elliott has learned to like that family afternoons. It reminds him of his own childhood. It feels like home again.

Except for those small moments when his and mom’s eyes meet above the heads of others and they see a reflection of their own thoughts in each other’s gaze.

That there’s something missing from the picture, and there are wounds that will never heal, moments that will never come back. And thoughts of how it could be.

Renee tries to keep Vica interested in a large, thick-paged book full of animal pictures when the doorbell suddenly rings.

Mom looks at him confused. Elliott shrugs.

“Expecting someone?”

“Not at all, maybe someone mistaken the door?”

Elliott gets up of the couch and smooches the top of Renee’s head briefly.

“I’ll get that.”

He whistles quietly, walking through the hallway. Opens the door nonchalantly only to see a tall - just like him - stranger. The man is wearing cargo pants, heavy boots and a big, baggy jacket easily covering up whatever is under. His hair is short almost like he shaved his head off by a week ago, but what’s the strangest, he wears a handkerchief around his mouth, leaving only his eyes visible. He has dark brown eyes, it reminds Elliott of someone.

Elliott glares at the visitor before wearing a cocky smile.

“Hey kid, if you’re here to rob us, I’m gonna have to honestly warn you I’m gonna beat you up and I’m not kidding, I’m good at that, I mean, you may know me from the tv,” he leans a bit on the open door in his daring pose. “And if you’re hopefully not aiming for burglary then I’m afraid you’re at the wrong door.” He smiles broadly.

The stranger seems absolutely unmoved with the speech. He just steadily reaches to the handkerchief covering his face and pulls it down, revealing scarred, nastily healed face underneath. It’s horrible, really, the burn markings are covering his entire chin and crawl down his neck, his lips are deformed into a grimace, looks like he was angry, but he isn’t, Elliott is sure of it, the anger doesn’t reach his eyes, the eyes of…

Liam. He’s staring in the face of Liam. Older, seasoned, tired but still the same well-known face of the youngest of his brothers.

Elliott’s arm fall down by his sides. He blinks repeatedly, then forgets to blink at all, like what he’s seeing was just a… mirage.

It isn’t though, Liam is still standing by his mother’s front door and he awkwardly moves his body weight from one leg to another; something twitches in his scarred face and his eyes become teary.

Elliott isn’t really aware of what’s happening with his own face right now and he couldn’t care less. It’s like a surgically precise stab in his heart, weird pain and warmth taking over him immediately, the flood of feelings long buried and gone almost sweeping him off his feet. He can’t move. He can just stare dumbly while thousands of questions cross his mind. How? Why? Why now? Since when? Where was he?

“Elliott, is everything okay?” Mom calls from the living room.

Her voice finally unlocking his body from this weird trap he built for himself in the first place. And Elliott’s hand strikes like an arrow, grabs Liam by the hem of his jacket and forcefully pulls him in into a hug. It’s ungentle, absolutely rough movement and he hits his face at brother’s shoulder but it doesn’t matter anyway as he finally, finally has him in own arms. So Elliott squeezes Liam hard, hides his face and sobs quietly, ugly, into his shoulder, drooling all over it like a baby. Liam trembles a little in his arms.

The warm, solid body he’s holding is very much real.

“Elliott, sweetheart what are–” mom must have come to the door and she suddenly stops talking, stops moving. The next thing she does is outright a yell. She screams, she drops something to the floor and it shatters with a lot of noise, and Elliott moves away just in time to let her literally fall into Liam’s embrace.

He sniffs and wipes his face with the top of the hand, can’t really hold back a smile crawling on his lips. When he turns his head it’s to see Renee running into the hallway with a worry painted on her face. She stops before the shattered glass and her sight stops at the scene for a second.

Elliott’s mom is blabbering something with a breaking voice. Liam is still silent. It takes one glance at Elliott’s swollen of tears, smiling face for Renee to understand what’s going on. She carefully steps over the glass, comes to him and embraces his waist.

“I’m happy for you,” she whispers. “Will you introduce us?”

He nods, he nods, what else could he do. There comes a short, complaining child’s cry from inside the flat. Liam raises his head from above mom’s shoulder, surprised. His and Elliott’s eyes meet. There’s a question in that glance.

Elliott nods slowly, trying not to let his fluttering heart take over his emotions once again.


	9. Don’t Ask Me Questions I've Got No Answers  (T/angst and comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things gotta be made clear, especially when Elliott realises each could be dead tomorrow

What was it what they had? A relationship? He wasn’t sure. He could rely on her as a teammate. He could spend time with her outside the games, she was a great drinking companion and a good laugh too. With time, their trust started evolving into something more, their time together becoming a quiet and peaceful talk rather than pointed jokes, although those were never truly gone, it was just about the tone they were said with, the glow of her eyes, which he was sure was reflecting his own. Her presence softened all his edges, chased the coldness of his heart away. And over the time he did realize there was something more to it than a friendship. The fact that she seemed to return that feeling made him both glad and terrified. 

It wasn’t quite right, he admitted to himself after the evening when he had kissed her and she kissed him back. It wasn’t quite right because he wasn’t ready to commit, to fall in love and inevitably lose the loved one. The dread it filled him with had made him hold his feelings at bay so far but the way she made him feel… he had known he would break one day. 

He couldn’t really talk to her about it, he wouldn’t know what to say, as he was the one who crossed the blurred out line between friends and lovers. But she demanded neither answers nor declarations and he wanted to believe it was because she didn’t know what she wanted of this… thing they had either. 

Elliott flipped the phone in his fingers, turned the display on, stared at the unlock screen for a long while before it faded away. He entered the code fast, opened the gallery and searched out the selfie he took with her. 

Wraith was looking up at the camera with a gentle smile, and he was making a face to cheer her up for the photo. She was beautiful. With a sigh he turned the display off, put the phone away only to pick it up a second later to set this picture as his main screen, cropping himself out of it. 

_That’s stupid, she’s gonna kill you when she finds out._

She won’t find out, why would she look at his phone anyway. He stared at her for a little longer before setting the alarm for tomorrow games. 

***

This had to be the worst game ever since he started participating. Nothing went right from the beginning, they landed in a hot zone only to end up in a desperate fight for any weapon or supply, seven other teams competing for that in the bloodthirsty fever. In the chaos of surrounding gunshots, grenades going off and screams of those who weren’t lucky enough to dodge a bullet he managed to find a gun but when he leaned to reach it he got knocked down by a powerful hit to the side of his head. Elliott’s world spinned around, the ringing in his ears intensified only by an explosion just behind the wall. He literally hugged the cold surface of the wall, mumbled “I’m down” to the comm, not sure if anyone was listening and heard a click of a gun being loaded. 

Things that happened next must have been his worst nightmare but it happened so fast, so fast, he had no time to react… 

Wraith jumped in through the window. She leaped at the guy who hit him, the struggle there must have been only seconds but for him, it seemed like an eternity. And then the gun fired, and then she screamed horribly, and he saw her pulling the gun out of the guy’s fingers only to aim and shoot him with one clean shot through the head. 

And then she fell to the ground, trying to muffle down a moan through gritted teeth but to no avail. 

Little did he know how seeing all that could sober him up in seconds. He jumped to her to catch her falling but Wraith only yelled in pain when he did, so he just waved his hands hopelessly, panicked, he looked down at her pale face, placed her head gently on his lap and caught her damp, cold hand with which she was reaching up to him. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered with a voice so thick and wavering he doubted she could understand. “Path! I need a syringe!” He yelled, even if the robot could hear him through the comm. 

“I don’t have any but I will find one, friend,” the response came to his ears so he refocused on Wraith. 

She was shivering, her eyes tearing, white as a sheet, lips trembling in between the low whines of pain. There was a growing stain of blood on her right thigh. 

“O-oh w-w-well,” she sputtered with a voice quavering so hard he could barely recognize the words. And she smiled, or was it just a twitch of her face? Mirage held her tighter. “T-tha-t's… bad.” She whimpered again. 

“Sh, don’t talk,” was the only thing that came to Elliott’s mind when he watched her fading. “It’s gonna be okay." 

He knew it wouldn’t. She was dying on that floor, in his arms and all he could do was watch her agonizing pain. That’s when he realized it had already been too late. It had been too late to ‘not commit’ and 'not fall in love to never suffer again’ because he already was head over heels in love with Wraith. And she was passing away on a floor, with a bullet that probably went through the artery, and no matter how advanced the medical technology was there was no possible way of bringing someone back if help didn’t come on time. 

"It’s go-gon-gonna be okay,” Mirage lied again. “Path!” he roared. Probably too loud. 

The door opened and some blonde woman aimed at him with her gun. She hesitated only for a brief second, the shot echoed in the air and darkness pressed in. 

***

The first thing Elliott felt was how sore and dry his throat was. Opening his eyes felt like ripping the skin of his eyelids and the light that stroke him was bright as a thousand suns. He tried swallowing but everything hurt and his mouth was absolutely dry. It took a moment of slow blinking to get used to where he was. 

Which apparently was a hospital. Taken all the IVs in his arm, the polka dot hospital gown he was wearing and the small steel table next to his bed. His phone was laying on top of it. 

Elliott reached for it with some effort. The events of the game coming back to him in flashbacks, the heart rate monitor beeping faster when he remembered Wraith pale and bleeding out on the floor and he just had to know, he had to know now. 

If she died it would be in the news. 

With shaking hands he unlocked the phone and froze. 

There was Wraith gently smiling and himself making a stupid face, looking at him from his main screen. Many feelings flooded him at this moment, the most painful among - hope. He didn’t have the time to overthink when the door opened. 

“You’re awake,” Wraith said quietly. 

That familiar voice he dreamed of hearing again. He flopped on the pillow, unable to speak through the sudden relief which hit him like an earthquake. 

_Either we’re both alive or both dead but at this point, I don’t care._

Wraith limped to his bed. She was also wearing a hospital gown and her hair was ruffled like after the night. She sat at the stool, curling her hands under her knees. She looked hopelessly cute when she did that. 

Wraith smiled softly and he smiled back. She pointed at his phone with a nod of the head. 

“Hope you don’t mind a little redecorating. I just… wanted to call your mom, tell her you’re ok." 

Elliott was silent. He didn’t know how to explain that to her. 

"We need to talk,” she announced and he felt the urge to defend himself somehow. 

“Look, I- I’m sorry, I’ll delete that, I-”

“I like that,” she cut in. And after a pause added. “Us. I like us together." 

Elliott hesitated before reaching his hand out. She gently tangled her fingers with his. He really wanted to tell her about what he felt but he somehow was sure the way they looked at each other now was enough.And he was madly, so madly in love with her.

* * *

Maybe the first night wasn't how Elliott had imagined it many times before. Maybe it was a little awkward at moments, a little clumsy while they were learning each other's bodies, a little softer and more tender than he thought he would be able to be, being handed the prize he's been dying over for so long, on a golden plate. And maybe her leg wasn't exactly well yet, and maybe his head hasn't fully healed but it was... it was something different when he got to undress her bit by bit discovering her beautiful body like unpacking a Christmas gift. It was good. 

He thought to himself laying under the sheets, hearing her slow breathing right next to him. The sun has been already high up in the sky and Elliott somewhat lazily reached for his phone on the nightstand. It was almost eleven. He smiled at the home screen picture of them and put the phone down. Then he ever so gently turned to Wraith, trying not to ruffle too much, rested his head on a hand and just stared at her bare back softly rising and falling as she breathed. Wraith's hair out of the bun seemed to live its own life, tangled all over the pillow and gently framing her pale arms. She had a birthmark right above the shoulder blade, something he has only noticed just now and Elliott suddenly couldn't fight off the urge to touch. 

His fingers brushed the hair away from her arm, but the moment he touched her Wraith flinched. 

The murmur that came from her next, right after she relaxed on the pillows again had to be his undoing. 

"Sorry, sorry," Elliott whispered, fingers brushing at the soft skin of her back. "I didn't want to wake you up, sleeping beauty." 

Wraith turned around tangling herself into the comforter. Her hand somehow landed in his hand and he just reflectively closed it. 

"Mmmmmhhwhat time isit?" She mumbled, her eyes still closed. 

"Eleven." 

She opened one shiny blue eye and looked at him. Elliott smiled softly to that sight. His heart started beating faster when Wraith stretched with a murmur, one of her breasts slipping from under the covers. He let himself just adore the view till Wraith didn't catch his sight an raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 

"What?" 

Elliott's smile widened before he answered. 

"Nothing. You're just so..." he paused trying find the best word, only to see Wraith raise her eyebrow higher. "Just cute." 

"Just cute?" She repeated somewhat unamused and turned to face him fully, making Elliott fight with an urge to kiss her, only awareness of morning breath holding him back. He smirked. 

"Maybe a little bit more cute." 

"A little bit," she whispered smirking back, rolled closer - she was so warm - and kissed him without any hesitation. Elliott opened his eyes wide, startled with her confidence and Wraith felt his hesitation because she stopped and pulled back a little.

"What's wrong?" 

Wrong? Nothing was wrong it was amazing! It was a dream coming true. Elliott cupped her cheek. 

"Nothing! Nothing I'm just- my second always yelled at morning kisses I-," as he spoke this Wraith made a knowing face. The ominous smirk that followed made him flop on his back. Yeah, Elliott, talking about your ex was a great idea. 

"Your second?" Wraith's voice felt like a pinch, she crawled closer, turned to her stomach to look at him from above. "Which number am I, huh?" 

He made a focused face and started counting on his fingers, but seeing her scowl when he reached ninth he couldn't hold a serious face anymore and he snorted. He got hit with a pillow in a blink of an eye. 

"Hey, stop I'm-" Another hit. "Baby, I-" And another. "I was just-" And another. 

Elliott caught her by the arms and flipped them over, pinning her to the bed with his bodyweight just to keep her from delivering another pillow strike. She poked him with the nose to which he answered by just kissing the lips that were so close to his. 

The soft full lips he gently slid a tongue between, which parted eagerly to welcome him. 

"In all sir- sre- seriousness," he started when they parted, looking straight into her eyes. "Do you really want to know?" 

Wraith hesistated for a moment, looked away and bit her lip - she looked absolutely adorable and hot when she did - then she nodded. 

Elliott sighed nervously, laying next to her on his back. 

"Third, you're third... but ah- I know I make it seem like there were a lot," he coughed. "More but. I used to be that nerd fat kid at school and nobody would hang out with me and then I kinda worked on myself but all that things... with my brothers popped up and I- I guess I didn't really feel like it, and then mom, and I kinda really didn't want to lose anyone anymore cause you know, it sucks when you lose someone you love so I just made a cnos- conc- c-, I decided not to fall for anyone because-..." 

Elliott fell silent, realising he's been blabbering and ruining the mood. He just stared at the ceiling feeling how regret of saying too much overwhelms him. Only then had he realised Wraith was waiting for him to continue. He should continue. He shouldn't leave it open like that, leave her space for any doubt. 

"Well I... obviously failed that part, I'm not really good with keeping my word and I-," he took a long breath and glanced at her, unsure. "I love you." 

The sentence echoed in the bedroom without an aswer. Too much too fast? Wraith wiggled close to him and pushed her head under his arm, making herself at home in this half embrace. 

"You're not gonna lose me, Eli," she whispered. "I'm staying." 

Elliott smiled gently, placing a smooch on the top of her head. He wanted to believe it so badly. 

"Hungry? I make an exceptional omelette! Seriously, everyone says that. You know what, I don't care, I'm making you the omelette, you just stay here." 

He jumped out of bed, grabbed a bathrobe to cover himself up and turned one time before leaving the bedroom to admire the sight of Wraith curling under the sheets, softly smiling. He really could get used to that.


End file.
